Apology
by Rothalion
Summary: After witnessing an act that Braska is involed in which defies Yevon's laws Auron runs from his lord and tries to find a new sense of himself. Braska's out of character due to the stresses of the pilgrimage.


Title: Apology

Author: Rothalion

Summery: After witnessing an act he considers against his faith Auron battles with Braska throwing the pilgrimage into jeopardy. Exhaustion, doubt, frustration and jealously all combine to to alter even the staunchest

Of personality traits and and things spin rapidly out of control.

Rating: Strong PG-13. Slash and violence

Disclaimer: Square owns 'em I just like to tweak 'em!

1.

The final two days before Luca had proved difficult. All three men were exhausted, and edgy. Auron especially so. He'd had enough. Maybe they'd all had enough. Although Jecht's skills had improved greatly in the months since they'd left Bevelle Auron still tended to take on the brunt of the fighting and scouting tasks. Lately, it even seemed to Auron that Braska was almost trying to keep the blitzer out of harms way. Just the day before, Jecht's lack of attention and Braska's over protection had caused Auron to be badly injured after Braska had refused Auron's council concerning which path the trio should follow. As a result, Auron had fallen, tumbling 75 feet or more down a scree slope after the edge gave way while he tried to scout a safe path through the darkness. The very darkness that he'd warned his lord against traveling in. He'd lain unconscious for three or more hours because Braska and Jecht had continued plodding along, chatting about Blitzball, unaware that he was no longer ahead of them.

The younger guardian was still sore and sliced up as they walked toward Luca. Sore and still a bit angry with both his Summoner and the blitzer for their oversight. He recalled that Braska had refused to admonish Jecht for his foolish inattentiveness, in doing so the summoner would implicate himself in the blunder, and that he and Auron had exchanged, uncharacteristic, extremely harsh, and angry words; ending with the only partially healed Guardian storming off, hunched in pain, to stand watch, after proclaiming that he would accept all three shifts, and that the 'two incompetent, nothing but dead weight, chimera asses should leave him the fuck alone.' he remembered the looks on their faces. The blitzer stunned, could not believe his ears, and Braska's face said 'You will be punished for this outburst, Guardian.'

'Damn, them!' Auron had thought to himself that night as he sat cold, hurting and hungry, 'Damn them both. Let them watch me lumber around wounded for a few days. Then maybe Jecht will wake up and remember this is no joke, and my lord will stop forgetting that I am a seasoned and competent leader. A Warrior Monk. A commander.'

In the end Jecht had taken the younger man some food, an extra blanket and hot tea. Braska, much to Jecht's surprise, had advised against it. 'Let him pout.' he told Jecht angrily, 'he'll get over himself. He is lucky that I did not choose to punish his disrespect on the spot.' The Blitzer offered an apology and a potion to Auron and the two actually sat and spoke together nearly until morning. Auron, tired, lonely after having fought with Braska and a bit relaxed from the Sake he'd been sipping surprised Jecht by telling him about his childhood. Although shocked by Auron's sudden openness, and the utter sadness and violence of Auron's tale, Jecht also felt honored that the young man had shared his story and decided that despite his blunder earlier that night, the warrior must finally trust him. Jecht had smiled to himself as the tired, injured guardian's chin fell to his chest and the younger man slipped into sleep. Jecht covered Auron and took the watch for the brief remainder of the night.

The trio reached Luca late in the evening after a long, tension filled, silent day. Once at the inn three rooms were procured. Normally the party would use two, Jecht and Auron sharing, but Braska deemed that his younger guardian needed a little space and insisted on three. The Summoner knew that Auron could spend countless days or months in the close company of his fellow Warrior Monks if need be, but if not given his space, after a time the guardian would become hostile, depressed and short tempered, even aggressive. Auron had been punished for this loss of control before. The Summoner also knew that Auron's predictable moodiness had led to the confrontation the night before, the lesson, obviously, not yet learned; but regardless, disrespect was disrespect, whether the Guardian's Summoner had erred or not, and it wasn't as if Auron hadn't been schooled before concerning this subject. The cost of the extra room would have to be absorbed. The man would have to be given time to find his center, and a punishment administered. The rooms acquired, Auron insisted on going for food while Braska and Jecht showered and settled in. Tired, none of them felt like eating in the noisy dinning hall.

Once he was in the main hall of the inn Auron ordered the three dinners, filled his tokuri, and decided upon a large jug of Braska's favorite wine and a block of his lord's favorite cheese for refreshment. While he waited for the meals the Guardian idly perused the many colorful tables set up around the room by vendors hawking their wares in anticipation of the upcoming Blitzball tournament. Safe in the city, Auron had begun to relax somewhat. Now, feeling guilty and deeply regretting the angry hurtful words he had spat at Braska, he sought out a trinket; a small gift in hope of repentance, and in hope that it might stave off the punishment he was certain that his lord would mette out. At the third table he came to, he bartered for a three day pass, great seats, to the tournament for Jecht. The vendor was reluctant to agree to the warriors trade but Auron proved to be a talented and persuasive haggler and the five, bitterly won, fire gems, the scar across his chest burning at the memory of the battle, were traded for the pass. Several tables later he found a gift for his lord. A small ivory medallion on a leather tie engraved with three ancient symbols representing: love, forgiveness, and peace, it was a stroke of luck. Braska loved ivory, and Jecht could not read it. While it pained him to give up his lighting bracer for the piece, Auron knew that the medallion was the perfect present for his lord. The ivory piece would be fine. Shopping completed he retrieved the waiting meals and headed back to Braska's room where they had agreed despite the tension to eat together.

Auron, tired but relieved, climbed the stairs and made his way down the quiet hallway. Reaching Braska's door he propped the tray on his hip and against the wall. Then, turning the latch with his free hand he pushed the thick wooden door slightly open with his foot. Grasping the tray again with both hands he shoved into the room backwards turning as he entered. The scene before him shattered his heart, and crushed his world with the same horror and finality as a Sin attack. The tray dropped from his numbed fingers and he found his breath caught in his throat. Braska, his lord, was on the small bed very involved with Jecht in an act that defied all reason for the young guardian. The two heads flew up and turned when the tray hit the stone floor, the glass plates shattering, food flying, the jug of wine exploding as it crashed to the ground. Auron's destruction was completed when he realized that the look on his lord's face was not one of embarrassment but a wry smile. This, his punishment? This? Why?!

"No, my lord no...not this too." the voice was choked, strangled and full of unimaginable agony, grief and disbelief.

"Auron, no wait!" Jecht screamed as the distraught man backed rapidly out of the room and fled, leaving the door open. He tried to get free of Braska and go after the warrior but the impassioned summoner would not release him.

"No," he rasped, not slowing down, not missing a stroke and tightening "finish it...finish it first!" and saying Jecht's name over and over he tensed and with a guttural cry he did. Jecht, had simply gone limp.

"Damn you summoner!" Jecht screamed. Pulling free, and rolling from the bed. "You told me he knew. That you told him. That he was ok with it...with us!" Jecht screamed slamming the door shut, while he pulled on his pants and tried not to slip in the spilled food, cutting his feet on the glass, the wine stinging. Amazed, at the same time, how quickly he'd gone soft. "Bastard! You fuckin lied. You lied. Lied! Damnit!" he screamed as he struggled to breath, " It's almost...almost like you fuckin /wanted/ him ta catch us!" Visions of Auron telling his story the night before, and the lost, wounded look in the kid's eyes flashed through his mind. Contrasted with joy that sparkled in them as he told Jecht of the happiness he'd found living with Braska. The look on his face standing at the doorway just now, etched itself into his memory. Burned itself into the back of his eyelids, and the sound, the sound of the kid's cry tortured his hearing. The sensation of the newly won trust being stripped from his soul...overwhelmed him. He began, for the first time in uncounted years, to cry.

Jecht threw on the rest of his clothes and gasping, trembling with emotions he did not understand, and could not contain stared at the silent summoner incredulously. The man just sat there. Naked, drenched in sweat, his pale skin, shiny, flushed pink, hair plastered to his head, an odd smile twisted on his thin lips.

"Braska?!" It was a question, an accusation, a plea, "What the hell had just happened here, and why?"

"Relaaax Jecht." Ahh, that oh so soothing voice, the voice that had ensnared him some six months ago. "Auron will be fine, it was ..." he shrugged absently, " just a bit of a shock." he stood and crossed to the blitzer, and stretching up a bit kissed his lover, on the lips. Jecht pulled away, angry and confused. Braska, he felt, no he knew, had intentionally hurt Auron and he'd used him, to help do it. Why? When they 'd started into each other, after Auron had left, Jecht had voiced his concern about the young man returning.

/ 'Come on Braska, at least lock the door.'/

/'No, Jecht he'll be gone a while. Do not slide away from me, I need to touch you. He needs a little time and if I know Auron, and I do, he'll stretch the errand out. Now come here. I've missed you. He's kept us apart far too much lately.'/

"Well, Jecht, let's go shower, hmm?" flippant, with that smile again. Jecht was frightened. He could not comprehend the depth of the hurt that the, until now, gentle Summoner had knowingly inflicted on his loyal and loving foster son, his guardian. What they'd been doing was abhorred and considered heretical by the church, and Braska had allowed Auron, one of the most chaste, devout and spiritual people Jecht had ever met be a witness to it.

"No." Jecht shook his head, "No." he backed away from Braska and picked up his sword.

"No, Summoner, that was more than 'a little shock' you just crumbled his world. You may as well have been Sin itself. I'm gonna go after him, you, can take your pious, Yevonite conscience with you in the fuckin shower! As for us, we're fuckin through!" and stepping over the ruined dinners he left, the door slamming behind him.

Jecht slammed through the door to Auron's room. He figured catching the monk by surprise was far better than announcing his presence. The room was empty. No bedroll, no pack, no weapons. Auron was gone. Jecht strode slowly to the center of the small room

and turned in a circle studying the silent empty space. The young monk had vanished. A hole began to bore its way through Jecht's heart. Driven by guilt and loss and shame. Fear and grief chased close behind.

Jecht had thought all along that Auron knew about him and Braska. The Summoner had assured him that he had talked to the man and that he and Auron had hashed out their differences concerning the church's vow of celibacy long ago when Braska had married; agreeing, in the end, to disagree. As for men bedding men, the summoner told Jecht that Auron also followed Yevon's laws, but that he understood that Braska would always to a certain degree do as he wished regardless of church doctrine. He was a man and would love whoever he chose to love. Jecht realized now that Braska had lied. The summoner told him not to be concerned, and not to speak of sex with Auron, as it seemed to make the younger man quite anxious. Jecht recalled laughing at the warning and thinking that it wouldn't hard to heed. It seemed to the brazen blitzer, that sex didn't exist in the monks world. Not sex with women, not sex with men, not sex with shoopuffs. To Auron, it, quite simply, was dead issue.

"I'm sorry kid. I thought you knew," Jecht said to the empty room as he turned once again to survey it. "but even knowing, you should never have been forced to see it." This time as he turned, something caught his eye.

The blitzer walked over to the small bedside table and stared down at the two items placed there. Reaching out he lifted the first, a ticket, a three day pass to the Blitzball tournament. Jecht once again felt tears sting his eyes. The ticket had to be for him. Neither Braska or Auron cared anything for the game. The second item was gently lifted and he studied it. The ivory, smooth and cool between his fingers. He had no idea what the symbols stood for but he assumed the token and the sentiment were for Braska.

Sighing he sat down heavily on the bed. The ticket and medallion in his shaking hand. Again bitter tears coursed down his rough cheeks. This was all to much. Just too much. He 'd began sleeping with Braska out of despair and loneliness, in his Zanarakand it made no difference man or woman, pleasure was pleasure, comfort was comfort. He'd also been working extra hard in the past few months to gain Auron's trust and friendship, and he was trying his best to learn the ways of Spira, and the church...and now. Now because of base need and desire he helped to blow their little universe apart. His wife was gone, his son was gone, his Zanarakand was gone and now Auron was gone. Vanished into the night distraught, angry and confused, injured and with him all the hope Jecht had of reaching either Zanaraknd had fled into the darkness as well.

Jecht was not sure how long he'd been sitting on the bed hunched over, elbows on his knees, his head bowed. The click of the door latch caught his ear and he feared to look up. Feared that the person standing there would not be Auron. It wasn't. Braska stood framed in the entry. Hair still damp from the shower, light gray pants and a cotton shirt.

"Auron?"

"Gone... Took everything. Gone." Braska let the word sink in as he scanned the room. No pack, no bedroll and no weapons. Auron had indeed left. The Summoner struggled to mask the wave of worry and sorrow that was washing through him. This was not at all like Auron. To leave with all his belongings. No, this was not the anticipated response. He had planned on Auron storming off, drinking himself blind, blowing off some steam in a bar with a fight or two and waking up guilty as Sin itself in the morning, battered and craving forgiveness, Braska's twisted choice of punishment accepted.

"Why Braska? please tell me...why?" The Blitzer looked up at his summoner wiping his big hand across his face erasing his tears.

"I was angry. Very, very angry and spiteful. I wanted to punish him. I was not myself. It seems he tries to separate us. He... I have never intentionally harmed anyone." he crossed the room and sat on the bed next to Jecht, staring down at the floor. The blitzer straightened up and set his jaw in an angry glare. "I wanted to hurt his feelings. He'd hurt mine. I....when we, you and I, began I thought, 'yes catch me at this you frigid bastard. This pleasure that your oh so devout body will never know.' I...He had screamed at me, screamed. called 'me' useless, 'me' and I am the one giving up everything Jecht. Yevon I am only a man!"

"You were angry? Angry!"

"Jecht, please. I have never fought with him before. He has never stood against me like that before. I was tired, hurt. His words last night, his disrespect... he has never raised his voice to me. I...I 've been having doubts. Leaving him, Yuna....you. I...Do I truly wish to loose everything for Spira? and then there he was screaming at me..what is happening to me, to us Jecht? My resolve? I was not, am not... myself. He...he, when he turned out to be right The dark, the cliff I... "

"Braska, we left him, badly injured, lying at the bottom of a cliff, cold and unconscious for three fuckin hours because face it, we're damned incompetent, and you were angry because he yelled at you. Disrespected you. He told ya not to go that way, not to go in the dark..."

"He will come back. He will not break his oath to me." Jecht was amazed. Jecht wanted nothing less than to wrap his hands around the summoner's throat and squeeze the life out of the twisted man.

"Oath... what good is an oath summoner after what you let him see tonight? How many fuckin OATHS were you breakin?" Silence filled the room for a time and the two men sat captured by their thoughts.

"What is in your hand?" Braska finally asked noticing the ticket and the ivory.

"They were on the table. He must have bought them for us downstairs. He..." Jecht cringed at the thought of the gifts. They had wronged the monk and yet Auron had thought of them wanted to make things right.

"What are they?" The blitzer found that he was reluctant to share the items with Braska.

"Here..." he shoved the gifts to the summoner. "Here. Then tell me who the bastard is summoner. Tell me just who is losing , who has lost everything." The blitzer stood, his back turned to Braska.

"A ticket? Three day pass, for the tournament, for you?"

"I assume."

"...And this, this for me?" he studied the inscription, "Oh Yevon, no.." and he began to cry. "No, no, no...oh Auron, no."

If Jecht had questioned Braska's sincerity earlier he had no further need to doubt it now. The tortured cry that escaped the summoner's lips could not have been faked even by the greatest actor in Spira. The man was obviously crushed. Jecht turned to face the man on the bed, Braska's face was a mask of abject grief. As angry as he was at the Summoner his heart went out the man.

"What, what does it say Braska? What does the damn thing say?" The summoner looked up into Jecht's eyes.

"The three symbols are from a very ancient script. Auron and I studied it together, for pleasure, it intrigued him when he was a child."

"Great. What's it mean?" Braska held out his palm, the medallion upon it and pointed at each symbol.

"Love, Forgiveness and Peace."

.2.

Jecht spent the next three days searching as much of Luca as could looking for the Warrior Monk. The city was large and there were uncounted numbers of bars, inns and taverns. The blitzers task was complicated further by the fact that thousands of Blitz fans were pouring in from all over Spira to attend the tournament. Braska was of the opinion that Auron had probably left the city, but Jecht simply couldn't believe that the Guardian would ever place himself very far from his Summoner even considering what had occurred. Braska for his part refused to aid in the search, convinced that Auron would come to his senses and return. The Summoner was spending all of his time at the temple atoning. Just thinking about it made Jecht ill.

"Jecht, you are exhausted, you have been searching diligently for three straight days and nights with little rest, please get some sleep." He crossed the room and reached out to touch the demoralized blitzer's head. Jecht recoiled and shot the summoner an angry look.

"Screw you Braska. I said I'd find'em and I will."

"No Jecht you won't, not until Auron wants you too. He was stationed here for a time, he knows the city well. He more than likely has friends among the Warrior Monks still residing here. You will not find him. It is still my guess that he is probably living in the wild, outside Luca anyway. He was upset. He will want to be alone. Please... go rest."

"Fuck you Braska, Fuck you." and the blitzer left and went to his own room, slammed the door closed and fell onto the bed. He was asleep within minuets.

Three days turned to a week, one week to two. While he wouldn't admit it to Jecht, Braska had begun to give up hope. Auron's reaction was skewed so far from what the foolish Summoner had anticipated that he could no longer claim to have any understanding or insight as to where the man may have gone. Although he had not told Jecht, one of the reasons he'd been going to the temple everyday was because he hoped that Auron would turn to the priests for help. The Guardian never showed up. Had he forsaken the church, had he forsaken the pilgrimage? Where does your Guardian go after you shatter their world?

Jecht for his part continued to search. He signed on to play in Blitzball games earning gil and instant recognition. He made contacts in taverns and inns through out Luca, he made it known in as many areas of the city as possible that he was searching for a young red clad Warrior Monk, a superb fighter with a penchant for Sake and big sword. The Blitzer may not have understood Spira but he'd grown up on the water, wandered the docks and knew how to mingle with the street people. Yes, he'd been a star in Zanarakand, but he had never forgotten the rhythm of the street. Jecht knew that unless Auron had completely fled Luca, that someone would eventually see him, and the Blitzer made sure he was greasing enough palms that word would get back to him.

"Jecht it has been over a month," Braska began as they sat outside the inn watching the sun set over the sea. "What should I do? Should we just go on? What should I do?" The Summoner was distraught, close to caving in. The entire Pilgrimage was at stake and the Blitzer had no answers.

"Braska look. I got word out all over. I know he was hurt but I...I can't believe that he would leave you. Braska he's here. Here, holed up, lickin his wounds. Here because despite everything else he loves you. Just...just trust me. Please. If nothing else that Auron loves you more than life itself. I'm gonna play this week and next, that's a good bit of gil, if we do leave we could use it. Just wait and let things play out. Just wait."

"You seem so sure. Why?"

"Braska, he told me. The night you two fought. He told me that you saved him, and he loves you for it, that nothing could ever separate him from you. At first I thought it was ...ya know like you and me, but... Braska, that's what hurts the most. He's pure, so damn pure. You, what you did...he told me that his father was a brute. That you saved him from the beatings and other abuse."

"What..." Braska's eyes were wide, "What are you saying? What other?"

"You didn't know?"

"No. The beatings yes, the other, no. Tell me."

"Give him time Braska. He'll turn up. No, I won't tell you. That is for him to do."

"Yes, but in the mean time Spira, Sin..."

"Braska, save your Guardian first." Jecht stood and looked into the Summoner's eyes, and grasped him by the shoulders. "Be selfish. Just this once. Save Auron again."

.3.

Auron ran. Once back in his room he grabbed his things and turned to leave. At the door he remembered the two small gifts in his belt and re-entering the room he placed them on the table. Ten minuets later he was in the street mixing with the Luca crowd. Auron was going. Where, he didn't know but he was going.

After an hour of walking Auron found himself at the steps of Luca's temple. The church. The church was his life. The church had never hurt him. Yes, the politicians of the church had censored him, but not Yevon. Yevon had never hurt him. As he began to mount the steps,

'No, Braska will look here first.'

He turned and walked away. Auron was alone. Completely alone for the first time since Braska had taken him in when he was ten. No church, no Summoner, no friends. He wanted so much for someone to comfort him. He wanted to know, to understand what had just happened and why. Auron was certain Braska had allowed the accidental intrusion, that his lord had set him up to see what him and Jecht were doing. The church. The church would always throw it's arms around him. The church would not question his need...but Braska would seek him out here, so he could not stay. That decided, the stricken monk headed for the city gates, for the wild.

Auron walked for about five miles before he found what he was looking for. A small protected cove, out of the wind and far enough off the road that passing travelers would not come across him easily. After clearing the ground of debris Auron set about searching for firewood, night was falling and the air held a chill. Fire started the young man sorted through his pack inventorying his supplies the simple chore helping to rid his mind of the scene in the inn. One night of field rations, three potions, Braska usually carried the potions, one day supply of water. Tomorrow he would need to find a stream, and search for food, his gil was very limited. A twinge of regret washed through him, 'I should have kept the gifts. I could have sold or traded them for supplies.' Saddened again he settled down for the night. Too tired to bother with the food he wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and began sipping from his jug.

'Lord, what have you done? I know that I hurt you with my disrespect. Lord I accepted your marriage, I accepted that she was...Al Bhed. I respected your right to break your vows and stood alongside you, as your son, throughout the ordeal. I am sorry that I did distance myself from you for a time, I... I needed to try to understand. How many times was I beaten for it lord? Ordered by you not to fight back against your accusers. Lord, I cannot abide with this too. It is too much. How far from Yevon's teachings have you strayed. How much do you expect me to overlook and still stand by you as your Guardian. Do you expect me to allow you into temples and trials? You understood the Machina in Bevelle...what are you lord? Are you my priest and my Summoner or the heretic the others claim that you are. You 'are' impure. You accepted me when I was impure and tainted . The church accepted me...but...I was an innocent. It took me a long, long time to understand my innocence, I sometimes wonder, still, if I do. So lord I continue to go and pray for forgiveness, so my soul will be pure. You though lord, you made a choice. Another choice to break yet another vow. Why lord? Why? I would have gladly suffered any punishment for my disrespect, but why did you have to shatter my faith in you so completely. Why? I was 'so tired' lord. I was injured, and angry that you had left me behind. My angry words, that night, were as empty as my heart and soul now are without you. I want to return to your side but I do not see how I can without further forsaking my beliefs. Lord I love my religion, my god and my faith, it is my life; all that I have lived for, fought for died for...I do not know if I can give it up in order to return to you as your guardian. I am almost certain that I cannot...I would be lost. Yes, I would have you...but my soul, my spiritual self would be cast into the maelstrom, I fear that I would falter. I need you, and love you more than life itself, but I need my faith as well. What have you done to me lord? What have you done?'

Auron's thoughts sifted out into the quiet darkness. The guardians torment and confusion whispered in hushed tones to the rocks and trees, to the stars, to his god. He wept. Tipping his jug he took a large swallow and swiped the hot tears from his cheeks, then looking up into the night sky he screamed,

"Yevon help me. Give me an answer...I just want to go home to my lord!" Auron slumped forward, his shoulders shaking with his quiet sobbing, until after a time sleep finally found him and brought him some peace.

Five weeks later Auron found himself walking back towards Luca. Living off the land when you had regular supplies brought in was one thing but Auron had no such supply line and he was weary of eating the small fish from the stream he had located near by. Small game was scarce and vegetation sparse. The warrior would need to earn some gil and restock his provisions. That or return to Braska and continue the pilgrimage, a step he was probably farther from taking now than he was the night he fled the inn.

The past many days had been spent riding wave after wave of conflicting emotions. Auron ranged from being torn with grief and loneliness to screaming at the sky in fury. Day after day he trained trying to push the memory of what he had witnessed from his mind. Hour upon hour with his sword without the sword until he would drop to the ground too exhausted to weep or laugh or think. Praying did not help. He tried to find comfort in his faith but the silence of the meditation only allowed the vision of Braska and Jecht to flash before his eyes. Auron knew that he had decisions to make and that he needed to make them soon, the problem was simply that he had never really been so free. Yet was he free? He had not yet told Braska he would not continue so his oath still held him.

'Maybe I should just go to him.'

Once he entered Luca Auron began to search for some method of earning gil. He had never worked before so aside from his skills as a warrior and monk Auron's choices were limited. After a few wasted hours he gave up on the plan and decided instead to sell his knives. They would get him enough gil to move on, or at best keep him in supplies at his campsite. The weapons shop was only a short walk from the inn where the trio had stayed, Auron wondered if Braska had resumed his pilgrimage or was still there. Curiosity won out and the warrior positioned himself in an alcove across from the inn and waited.

Auron sat on a crate eating an apple and hoped he would get a glimpse of Braska. Maybe, he'd decided, seeing him even from afar would help with his decision. He needed some sign to show him the path that he should follow. If his summoner was still here and would have him back he would keep the knives and start once again for Zanarakand. If Braska was indeed gone then he would sell the knives and try to decide whether or not to follow his lord or just go forward with his life. It only took two hours for him to get his sighting. Braska and Jecht stepped from the inn. Auron stepped from his spot in the alley and walked into the street. The summoner as always had drawn a small crowd, he gave them his blessing and the hopeful citizens move on. As the crowd dissipated a shocked Auron was left standing alone and exposed on the street, Braska saw the red clad warrior immediately.

Auron's heart leapt in his chest, his lord, his father, his priest, his summoner was calling out to him and walking across the busy street. The warrior dropped to his knees and bowed forward, his forehead on the ground. People stopped and stared at the sight of the young man in the street, while it was not uncommon to show great respect for a summoner the prone warrior was taking great pains to show his. If Auron's submission shocked them what would happen next would surprise them more. When the summoner reached Auron he dropped to his knees as well.

Braska placed his hands on his guardian's shoulders and leaning forward kissed the top of his head.

"Auron, please sit up Little Lion."

The warrior raised up from the road but kept his head bowed, he felt Braska's hands on each side of his face. They were warm and soft just as he remembered, they were life, they represented everything that Auron loved. The hands were his lord's, and he wanted so badly to throw his arms around the man before him, to loose himself in Braska's comforting embrace but fear and guilt held him back. Finally his dark tear filled eyes met Braska's blue ones.

"My lord, I am sorry. Can you forgive me?" Auron's voice was rough with emotion.

"There is nothing for me to forgive. Auron, my Little Lion the fault is mine and mine alone, can you forgive me?"

Auron shook his head from side to side, and Braska began to cry. The warrior did not know yet if he could forgive his lord, he thought that maybe he could forgive him but could he still journey? He simply wasn't sure yet. While he had hoped to see Braska he hadn't anticipated what had just occurred.

"Auron what are you saying? Auron you are coming with me aren't you? Auron?" Braska gasped as Auron pulled away from him and stood. He stood as well. "Please Little Lion..." he reached his hands out towards his guardian.

"No my lord, no. I'm not sure." He backed away "I...I'm not sure. I need more time. I...you hurt me lord. I ..." Auron spun around and began to walk briskly away.

"Auron, no!"

Braska fell to his knees as Jecht pushed past him and took off after Auron. Once he caught up to him he grabbed the younger man by the shoulder, yanked him around and snatched the collar of his robe and pulled him forward. Auron hadn't expected Jecht so he didn't react and now the blitzer had him firmly in his strong grasp.

"Auron wait. You can't leave him like this. You can't" Surprised at Auron's lack of resistance he released him.

"Jecht please, you, you do not understand..."

"Auron I do, I do please, at least meet with me, talk to me, let me try to solve this. I am his guardian you taught me to watch after him, to take care of him. Auron meet with me."

"Jecht." his voice was a whisper, "Jecht what he did, it hurt. I..."

"It hurt me too Pup, meet with me. There is a small inn across from the stadium, go and wait for me there. I'll tend to Braska and I'll come. Here's some gil. You look like you could use a good meal." he pushed the gill into Auron's hand. "Meet me Pup, say you will."

"Ok, but I don't need your gil." Auron gave the gil back. "I will wait for you Jecht."

One hour later after dropping a devastated Braska off at the temple Jecht was walking into the inn. He found Auron at a table in the back, sitting alone with his chair tipped back against the wall. The blitzer grabbed two mugs of ale from the bar and headed for his friend.

"Here you look like you could use it." Jecht put the mug in front of Auron and sat down across from him. He was surprised to see that the look on Auron's face was no longer one of despair, it actually held a hint of anger. "Aur..."

"No, Jecht wait." Auron cut Jecht off as he tipped his chair back down. "I cannot return."

Jecht took the words in. He sipped his ale and sat quietly, eyeing Auron. The blitzer was not a good negotiator and he knew it. The only way he would change Auron's mind was to somehow appeal to the younger man's deep seated sense of duty. He knew that Auron was deeply hurt by Braska's actions on many different levels, he needed to get around that some how.

"Auron, Braska led me to believe that you knew about us. He led me to believe that while you didn't agree with his breaking of the oaths you understood and didn't hold it against him." Jecht paused to consider his words. "Pup, had I thought or knew that this would drive such a wedge between you two I never, never would have done anything with him. Pup I asked him , I was worried about what you would think."

"Jecht I have oaths as well." He stopped when the blitzer raised his hand.

"You hungry? You look hungry." He stopped a passing server. "Two dinners; the beef, and two ales. You were saying?" Jecht wanted to slow the meeting down.

"Jecht, if I allow Braska into the trials knowing what I do 'I' am breaking my oath. I look away about his marrying, marrying an Al Bhed, because the church has looked away. The church would not have looked away from this as well, at least not both transgressions." Auron was staring into Jecht's eyes. "Can you understand how much he hurt me? Can you see my dilemma?"

"Auron I know how much what he did hurt. I ...was, though unknowingly a part of the deception." Jecht sighed and pushed on ."I also know how much you love him." He paused and tried to read Auron's eyes. "Auron...he is still committed to this, please..." The blitzer paused because Auron's head snapped up and he looked away. Jecht turned following his the warriors gaze. Braska stood there in gray pants and a white shirt.

"My lord?" Auron said "You should not be in here alone."

"I am not alone my guardians are present Iam sorry Jecht. I had a feeling that your were going to see Auron and I followed."

"Guardian, lord." Auron spat out, tipping his chair back against the wall. "Guardian. I can not console your deed within my soul, you my lord are a heretic." Auron crossed his arms over his chest and stared defiantly at Braska.

"Auron hear me out. I, what I did..."

"What you 'did' is against the tenants of my faith, and you threw it out to me as a punishment! I would have honorably accepted any punishment you chose lord but what you did... You continue to defy the laws of Yevon, laws I hold dear; and you have no remorse or conscience. You left me for dead and punished me for my anger, and exhaustion by allowing me to witness an act against my god and you want me to simply set what occurred aside and return to your service." Auron tipped his chair forward and leaned in toward Braska. "Why 'Father' why?" he screamed. "Why? What have I done to deserve your ire. Why 'Father' did you choose to cut out my heart?"

The title of 'father was not lost to the summoner, he knew that Auron's true father had caused him unimaginable pain and sadness. Auron stood and yelled. "My angry words? You left me to die. Regardless of the accident, you were doing these sins behind my back! You have said that I should forgive my father, you are now, and have been for fifteen years my father; and forgiveness, I am not finding it in my soul Braska, I just can not. I am going now, we are finished, I love you lord but you have torched the bridge." Auron stood and started to leave. Jecht again stopped him.

"Oh no. No you don't you smug bastard." He grabbed at Auron's shoulder but this time the warrior was ready. "Sit your pious ass down. Now!"

"Let go!" Auron's hands shot upwards and forcefully out to the sides knocking away Jecht's hands.

"No!" Jecht hollered and grabbed at Auron again.

"Jecht, this is not about you and I..." Auron again jerked himself free of Jecht's grasp. "I can't...give me time...just, Jecht..." Auron reached out and grabbed Jecht's arms. "Tell him, just..." Tears flowed freely down the warriors cheeks. "Jecht, give me a few more weeks, let me...me please I am quite confused. I need time, more time. If he truly loves me he'll wait. Tell him. I apologize for my anger, I ..."

"Auron?" He could only watch as the warrior walked away with his head bowed.

Auron returned to the weapons shop. The knives would have to be sold. They had been a gift from Braska, his heart was heavy with the thought of loosing them. Once inside the shop he walked to the counter and placed the weapons in front of the clerk, he needed to get the transaction completed quickly before he changed his mind.

"How much?"

"They are beautiful. Are you sure you wish to part with them?" The clerk eyed the young warrior over the top of his glasses. "It seems they mean a great deal to you."

"How much?" Auron repeated with a hint of anger in his voice.

"Five hundred gil. The workmanship is impeccable." The clerk replied. But before Auron could reply a large hand reached onto the counter and hefted the knives.

"Are you sure you want to do this boy?" A deep voice questioned.

"My choice is my choice. Return the knives to the counter." Auron countered looking directly into the green eyes of the man who had interrupted the bargaining. "Why would you care one way or the other?"

"Well, should you be interested I have a way that you can earn twice that much gil, and still keep the knives. You are a fighter, a warrior monk no? Maybe lost your way." The big man used the tip of one of the knives to push aside Auron's robe revealing his brand. "Meet me out front, if you are interested."

Auron retrieved the knives and followed the stranger outside. He did not wish to sell the treasured weapons, he would at least hear what the big man had to say.

"Ok tell me" The warrior commanded once the pair had stepped a short way away from the door. "What work do you have for me."

"Not work boy, sport." A broad feral grin spread across the man's face. "Sport of the most dangerous kind. Still with me?"

"I am sorry. I am not a Blitzer." Auron turned to reenter the shop.

"Not Blitz boy. Fighting. Win you get paid. Loose and you die. Understand?"

Auron understood. Death bouts. Somewhat illegal but tolerated. Fighting to the death held a strange appeal to the confused monk. It would give him focus, and if he lost, well all his problems would be settled.

"Where, and when?" Auron asked shuddering at the look of viciousness the slipped across the stranger's face.

"Fourth bell, pier four. The Red Inn, go to the bar and ask for Theliag. You will be instructed from there. Come ready to fight, and maybe to die young monk. To die."

"I do not die all that easily friend. Do not concern yourself with me." Auron watched as the stranger tipped his head back and a hearty deep laugh followed.

"Ahh, boy make no mistake. I am not your friend and I care nothing for you. Only for the gil you will put in my pocket." He reached out and jabbed a fat finger into Auron's chest. "Yes gil, and if I am not mistaken, and I seldom am you are going to fill my pockets well."

Fill the man's pockets with gil is exactly what Auron did. Fighting fiends, fighting men, fighting whatever the promoters threw at him. For the next four weeks Auron fought sometimes twice a night four nights out of seven. After the bouts he would celebrate at a nearby inn until nearly morning with some of the other fighters on his squad then fall exhausted into bed. Auron had never felt so free. The intensity of the life he was leading almost drove the church and Braska from his mind. The young man was nearly delirious with his new found freedom. The money, the blood, the drinking, the women. Yevon and his vows were slipping farther and farther from his consciousness. The church had betrayed him, and so had Braska. Now he was living for himself.

The women. Auron could have his pick on any night. While he had not taken one yet each night of celebration brought him closer to taking that step, the step that would break the vows he had struggled a lifetime to be able to take. The women flirted with him, they courted him, they brought him trinkets, none of it needed; the young man's needs and long pent up desires would take care of the final capitulation. A beautiful tawny haired waif of woman named Nadine would get the privilege. She had become a fixture at Auron's side, often sitting on his lap, never more than a few feet away. It was apparent to anyone who watched the two that Auron was taken by the woman, and that she had become genuinely attached to him.

Towards the end of the third week after watching Nadine dance and cavort around the dance floor Auron pulled the woman into his lap while they sat celebrating in the inn and kissed her deeply. He was clumsy and rough but Nadine went along with the kiss and returned it feverishly. She stood up and grabbed the monk by the wrist and dragged him from the common area, up the stairs and to his small room.

Once in the door she wasted no time in pushing Auron's robe back and off his shoulders. She ran her hands across the expanse of his scarred chest, around his back and tickled her way up his spine. When she reached his head she pulled him down and into another deep kiss. Her tongue whirled it's way around his and she nipped gently at his lower lip. Auron was consumed. Every inch of his skin was on fire, the pit of his stomach ached with an ache he had never before felt and his knees threatened to betray him. The warrior wrapped his fingers in her hair and breathed in her sweet perfume. Nadine began to push him backwards toward the small bed, her hands roamed over his body and her teeth nibbled his hardened nipples. Auron was lost in a haze of pleasure as she pushed him down onto the bed and knelt above him. Reaching behind her neck she released the button that held her top, the garment fell down and Auron's hands went straight to her breasts. His breathing was ragged, strained by desire and fear. Nadine reached for his pants and after undoing the fasteners, began to pull the sweat dampened leather clothing over his hips. Once the pants were gone Auron sat up and sucked her nipples into his mouth as Nadine removed her skirt. He buried his face between her breasts and slow tears began to slip from his eyes as Nadine lowered herself onto him, and began to slowly and rhythmically fuck him. The motion quickly changed and became frenzied as Auron started to drive upwards into her. His hands held her hips tightly and he gritted his teeth at the flood of feeling that was coursing through his body. When he came it was crushing. He screamed out with a hoarse whisper, as his body shuddered, wracked with convulsions.

"No. No. Yevon no."

Jecht nearly clobbered the man who had run up to him in the street outside of the temple. The idiot had caught him by surprise as him and Braska walked back to the Inn. The two had decided to continue with the pilgrimage in three days with or without Auron. The decision saddened them both but the young man had disappeared again without a trace.

"No. No don't hit me Blitzer I found your red robed friend.!" The man yelled holding his hands defensively in front of his face.

"Where?" Jecht demanded grabbing the excited man by the collar. "Tell me where. Speak!"

"Down near pier four, he's fighting in the death matches. He's good, damn good."

"Can you get me in?" Jecht pushed. He heard some of the Blitzer's talk about going to the secret fights. "Come on man! Can-you-get-me-in!"

"Yes, yes tonight fourth bell, pier four, the summoner must where street clothes."

Jecht reached into his belt and handed the man 250 gil and told him there would be that much again if he got them into the arena.

Braska paced. Back and forth and back again. Jecht was getting ready to knock the summoner out. From the time that the man had divulged Auron's where abouts Braska had been hell bent on going to the pier and searching for Auron. Jecht told him that if the kid saw them he might take off, just wait, so wait they did. Finally three hours later the two were being led into a large arena filled with people. The first bout was about to start.

The duo watched in horror as the first three bouts took place before them. All were man versus man, all three went to the death. Braska was nearly ready to fly from his seat and search Auron out. The fourth bout saved Jecht the trouble of restraining the terrified summoner. Auron strode confidently onto the arena floor his Masuame in hand and saluted the roaring crowd. A second warrior strode towards Auron and saluted the crowd as well. A bell was rung and the battle began.

Auron was fantastic. He had the match well in hand in a short period of time, but as soon as he dealt the death blow two more warriors rushed him from a door to his rear. Auron spun and seemed confused by the change of events and nearly missed his block of the first man's blow. Spinning he dropped low on his left knee and drove upwards at the second attacker sending the man twisting out of his way with a wound to his thigh. The first attacker was on him again and with a long horizontal sweep wounded Auron across the chest cutting through his breast plate to the skin and muscle. The stunned warrior dropped to his knees his sword held out vertically before him. The two circled Auron a short distance away, had they been smart they would have gone back after Auron immediately. Auron stood and took up a defensive stance his left hand straight out before him and his sword extended alongside it. The man on Auron's left came at him. Auron blocked the thrust, spun and as he rolled out the attackers way drove downward driving his sword into the slower mans neck taking his head off. Spinning again he blocked the remaining fighters blow but was knocked off balance and the attacker lunged at the stumbling monk and drove the point of his sword into and through Auron's left shoulder. Auron pushed away from his attacker, pulling free of the man's blade. and once again spun, his blade flying and caught the man across his chest. Without stopping he drove forwards trying to push his advantage but misjudged and took a hit across his face closing his left eye. Still he pushed forward, blind, in extreme pain and weakened by blood loss, he blocked a blow vertically blade down with two hands, then ducked beneath the next strike. Finally, Auron drove again up from his knees swinging the huge blade point upwards and forward into the man's exposed chest The force of the blow took both men to the ground and Auron released Masuame and grasping one of his knives he yanked the stunned man's head back and cleanly slit his throat.

Auron was in bad shape. They had not told him that there would multiple opponents. The surprise nearly cost him his life. On top of that he had been distracted from the start. His mind pondering his behavior lately with Nadine. He had reacted slowly and indecisively and the lapse had left him badly wounded. Standing he saluted the crowd again and began a slow staggering walk from the fighting floor. He would not celebrate tonight, he was in desperate need of a healer, and for the first time in weeks he wished that he could be with his lord.

As he entered into the locker room hands slapped his back and the green eyed man handed him his gil.

"You cleaned up tonight monk, here's your cut 3000 gil. Good work. See the healer."

Auron took his gil and made for the exit.

"Hey, boy the healer! What about..." He stopped as the door slammed behind the injured monk and he vanished into the night.

"Braska let's go! We gotta catch him as he leaves from the locker room and follow him home. Hurry!"

The two rose and made their way from the stands. Jecht dragged the summoner along behind him as headed around the building in the direction that Auron had exited. Sure enough there was a door with a few men lingering around beneath a light. As the duo cleared the corner they saw the red clad warrior exit and begin a slow and halting walk down the darkened street. Braska wanted to rush forward and catch him but Jecht calmed him down saying that they should follow him back to wherever he was staying.

Three blocks later they watched as Auron entered an inn. Standing outside the window they watched as a young woman ran up and threw her arms around Auron. He pushed her gently away and after kissing her softly on the head made for the bar, with her in tow. The warrior paid for and received a Tokuri of saki and with the help of the girl slowly made his way up the steep stairs. Jecht grabbed the summoner and moved into the inn.

At the bar Jecht demanded to know the number of Auron's room. The barkeep balked but after Jecht grabbed him nearly yanking him over the bar he blurted it out. The two headed for the stairs.

"Look Braska, he's hurt. Badly I think. Try to get him to let you heal him. He told me he loves to have you heal him, that it is somehow different then when a stranger does. Maybe it will start to bring him around." Jecht looked steadily into Braska's eyes. The Blitzer was afraid the kind summoner had been driven into shock by what he had just seen. The blue eyes, while sad , were clear and alert. So Jecht stepped up to the door. He didn't knock, he just turned the knob and entered.

The girl spun around quickest, she dropped the rag she was using to clean Auron's face and stood. Auron was in no shape to do much of anything. Jecht moved forward and took Nadine by the elbow ushering her to the door. Braska rushed to Auron's side.

"Disappear deary, he'll have no more use for you tonight." Jecht told her, as tears filled her eyes. "At least for tonight. We have business with him. If he so chooses he will find in a few days." He watched her go down the stairs and returned to the room shutting and locking the door.

Braska sat on the edge of Auron's bed staring at the wounded man. The warrior's eyes were now both swollen shut and he was breathing through his mouth; his nose too swollen to pass air. His coarse breaths were shaky and weak, Jecht was afraid he would die. Braska reached out and stroked his guardians bloody cheek and began to speak to him with a voice so soothing that Jecht had difficulty believing it issued forth from a man. Auron began to tremble, and he lifted a weak hand and touched Braska's smooth cheek.

"Auron let me heal your wounds, your heart, and your soul. Come, little one let me help you again."

"My lord, my lord. You should go. The way back is closed to me now. Go, I do not wish for you to watch me pass. I have always loved you." Tears streamed from his swollen eyes.

"The way back is not closed Little Lion. I can heal you. Let me, please."

"No the girl. I have sinned...with her, more than once." He began to cough and blood trickled from his mouth. "I am no longer pure enough."

"Auron you are the purist being that I have ever encountered, It is I, with my impurity who drove you from you path. You are pure my son."

As Jecht watched Braska took Auron's face between his hands and began to chant. The guardian struggled weakly in his grasp as the blue light of the healing spell flowed into him. Braska continued until the warriors eyes began to look normal again, and his breathing settled.

"Auron, listen Little Lion, come to me in the morning if you wish to come home. You are healed for tonight and will not die. After tomorrow we will be gone. I will continue to Zanarakand with only Jecht. There is no sin in growing up Auron. There is no sin in seeking comfort in the arms of another. As a priest and summoner of Yevon I forgive you on behalf of Yevon, your atonement is complete. Come home to me my son, come home to me. I miss you with all my heart and soul. Come home to me." He leaned forward and to Jecht's surprise kissed his guardian gently and nearly passionately on the lips. Auron gasped and relaxed into his pillows.

"My lord, I have missed you..." his eyes closed and he was asleep.

Braska removed the ivory medallion and placed it around Auron's neck, he kissed his forehead and whispered into his ear.

"Auron, my wonderful Little Lion, my beautiful son...please, please come home to me my guardian in red."


End file.
